Splitwick
by Juliana Brandagamba
Summary: A story that came to me whilst pondering if any of the Hogwarts teachers are married or have love interests. The title probably says it all really. Professor Sprout is new to Hogwarts, and one of the existing teachers just can't take his eyes off her. Also features the Marauders as irresponsible second-years.
1. Pomona Sprout

He noticed her hat first. The tall-ish, but very floppy, hat, a little grubby, was perched coquettishly on her mop of curls, looking as if it was relying on magic to keep it from falling. His eyes moved slowly down from the hat; beneath the brim he saw a pair of twinkling green eyes, like a cat's, undimmed by the slight shadow cast by the wide hat. And then there was a huge smile, beaming round at everyone from between two rosy cheeks. This pleasant face was framed by the greying curls that sprouted from her head in all directions, bouncing a little as she chatted with those around her, wild and untameable and yet very stylish at the same time.

She hadn't noticed that he was staring at her, but he realised that it was probably quite rude. Nevertheless it was more difficult than he thought it would be to tear his eyes away.

'My dear Filius, have you tried the custard creams? They're simply superlative.'

Professor Flitwick seemed to start out of a reverie and found himself no longer staring at the new teacher but at the wizened old face of the Headmaster, who had thrust a plate of biscuits beneath his nose.

'Er, no, I haven't – thank you,' he said vaguely, taking one. 'What's the new Herbology professor called again? Something Sprout?'

'Pomona Sprout,' said Professor Dumbledore. 'Have you not been introduced? Oh, but you must meet her... Pomona!'

The witch looked up from an animated conversation with Professor Sinistra and smiled her wonderful smile at Dumbledore. 'Yes, Professor?'

'Please, call me Albus.'

She nodded a little shyly.

'I hear you haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting our Charms professor... Pomona, this is Filius Flitwick. Filius, Pomona Sprout.'

They shook hands warmly (but a bit awkwardly, due to Flitwick's height).

'Charms, you say? I was never all that good at Charms,' bumbled Sprout. 'Things happened, but not always the things I wanted to happen. I got better, of course, but my spells are still a little unreliable, I'm afraid.'

Was she normally this talkative, or was she just nervous? Flitwick thought probably the latter. He had been nervous when he had first come to Hogwarts. The very place gave you butterflies in your stomach, never mind the presence of ghosts, elves, unpredictable staircases, talking portraits, and some of Europe's greatest witches and wizards. But he too found himself a bit stammery at this introduction, and that wasn't due to any of those things.

'Well, I hear you excel at Herbology,' he commented. 'Albus says that there isn't anyone who has a better command over the vegetable kingdom. And I hear that you make splendid pumpkin marmalade,' he added randomly, without thinking.

'Ah, you've heard about my pumpkin marmalade?' Sprout grinned. 'I call it a bit of a mistake myself. Always far too sticky, and ends up all over my kitchen. The stuff that makes it into the jars isn't too bad though.'

There was an awkward lull in their conversation that was broken by Dumbledore bringing over Professor Vector to be introduced. The Arithmancy teacher struck up conversation with Sprout very quickly, and soon they were chatting away naturally and as if they were good friends; Flitwick wondered how they did it.

Not long afterwards all of the teachers were called to tea in the Great Hall, which was for now, and for another couple of weeks, devoid of students. The Hogwarts ghosts were flitting around; some came down to the table to chat with the professors and to meet the new teacher. Over dinner the hall was filled with lively chatter and a merry atmosphere (particularly merry once the wine was served, it has to be said). But Professor Flitwick, usually the life and soul of a dinner-party and a spouter of amusing anecdotes, was for once silent and pensive, and he just couldn't take his eyes off Professor Pomona Sprout.


	2. Herbology

The start of the new term was always such an exciting time, even for the teachers, most of whom had been there a thousand times before (and in the case of Professor Binns, it wasn't far off a thousand times now). New students filled the corridors, sometimes getting lost, teased endlessly by Peeves, getting to know the teachers; and all of the students, old and new alike, were testing out the new Herbology teacher, particularly the Gryffindors, with their cheeky remarks and fearless retorts. They were a nice bunch ultimately, but there were a few of them who were immensely hard to handle, and would always give new teachers a bit of a job to make sure that they were Hogwarts material.

The worst of the Gryffindors – though they were also among the best, as despite almost never concentrating in lessons they were very intelligent – were the inseparable friends James Potter and Sirius Black. They were now in their second year and they were just as boisterous as ever. A couple of weeks into the new term they were still trying to catch Professor Sprout out with their questions and pranks.

Professor Sprout, they were delighted to find, had a marvellous sense of humour and an unexpected mischievous grin. She was always cheerful and managed to put up with James and Sirius, even where other teachers had failed, and though they were particularly terrible to her because of this she knew that really they were fine students and was never angry with them. Indeed she was growing to like them.

That was possibly about to change.

They were working at re-potting Mandrakes one lesson, "the best lesson you get in second-year, which isn't saying much" as older students said, and Professor Sprout was coming around to see how they were all getting on; when at last it was safe to take off their earmuffs, James dared to ask her in probably too loud a voice:

'Is it true about you and Professor Flitwick, miss?'

She started. 'Is what true, Mr Potter?' she asked in a harder tone than usual.

James looked a little taken aback. 'I heard you and Professor Flitwick were... never mind, miss,' he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

'What, Mr Potter?'

'Well, he can't take his eyes off you, Professor,' said Sirius bluntly, without even looking up from his potted mandrake.

Her eyes widened a little in surprise, and she swished away from the pair without saying anything further.

'That was stupid,' said a voice next to James and Sirius that was filled with authority and a bit of contempt.

'What was, Evans?' said James slowly, glancing towards the girl who had managed to end up on her own.

'You shouldn't ask the teachers personal questions,' said Lily Evans. 'It's rude.'

'Is that what Snivellus told you?' asked Sirius scornfully.

'Yeah, cause he sucks up to all the teachers,' snorted James. 'He's like a limpet.'

Sirius made a squishy noise and the pair fell about laughing. Lily Evans moved her pot further away and ignored them.

'Come off it, Evans, it was a joke,' James said, stopping laughing and looking at the girl more seriously.

'Like when you asked the same question to Professor Flitwick and he nearly cried,' sniffed Lily haughtily. 'You're so mean sometimes.'

James and Sirius pointedly ignored her.


	3. Vitrum Reparo

The second-years Gryffindors filed out of the Charms classroom chatting animatedly, for they had just learnt how to make objects hover with the much-loved Wingardium Leviosa charm. Though they weren't strictly speaking allowed to use magic in the corridors, it was certain that over the next few days there would be flying things all over the place, but nobody would ever be able to find the wand that was producing the spell.

Professor Flitwick was rather pleased with the group. They had all managed to work the spell to some extent; the best had been produced by Lily Evans and Remus Lupin, and the worst by Sirius Black, who, as he had for some reason not been concentrating, had managed to get a book through the window by his desk, and had not bothered to inform Flitwick of this fact.

Just as he was going to fix the window, he saw this book emerge through the door.

Followed by the rather flushed face of Professor Pomona Sprout.

'Is this from your classroom?' asked Sprout a little breathlessly; she sounded rather as if she had been arguing with the stairs, which tended to make you walk the long way round when they were in a mood.

'Ah, yes,' squeaked Flitwick. 'That's the book Black dropped out of the window.'

Sprout glanced at the window, which had a book-shaped hole in it, and wondered if "dropped" was quite the right word. 'Sirius Black, you mean?'

Her voice was a tad disapproving; Flitwick meant to ask why but the question slipped out of his head when Sprout asked him then whether he could show her how to repair a window – her greenhouses were always being attacked from inside and her repair charm, though effective, was a little shoddy, always leaving the telltale signs that the glass had been smashed.

'Of course,' said Flitwick, finding himself flattered as she referred to his charms as "perfect". He led her to the window and took out his wand, showing her beforehand the little flick that was so vital in ensuring seamlessness.

'So like this?' Sprout took her own wand from the folds of her robes and tried to imitate the flick. A couple of sparks shot out from the end, which wasn't quite the intended effect.

'No... like this,' Flitwick said gently, taking her hand and moving it in the right way. Then he started a little and took his hand away from hers. If she thought...

But Sprout merely smiled and said, 'Ah, I understand. So...' and she pointed her wand at the window and said, 'Reparo!'

The fragments of glass that had fallen to the grass below shot up to the window frame and arranged themselves neatly; but white cracks were still visible, criss-crossing over the pane.

'You see, that's what always happens,' said Sprout with a chuckle.

'Ah, well, if you say _Vitrum reparo_, I always find...' Flitwick performed this more precise charm and the cracks disappeared, leaving the window entirely intact and without trace of breakage.

'_Vitrum reparo_... I see. Yes, that would be helpful,' murmured Sprout. Her free afternoon would surely now be spent using the charm on the greenhouses. Unless...

'Are you teaching this afternoon?' she asked hesitantly.

Flitwick glanced at her. 'Yes, I have the fourth-years and then the NEWT class. Why?'

'No, just wondering...' For some reason she looked more than a bit disappointed. 'Thank you so much for showing me the charm. I shall see you at lunchtime, I presume?'

Flitwick nodded and bade her goodbye as she left the classroom.

It was only when he went back to his desk and started planning the fourth-years' lesson that he recalled that Sprout was free every Wednesday afternoon, and it suddenly struck him why she might have hoped that he was to.

At least, he wished and hoped that that was the reason. Could she...? Did she...?

Or was he being too optimistic?


	4. The Marauders

'So it's actually a thing then, Sprout and Flitwick?'

'Of course it's a thing!'

'Have they kissed?'

'Have you seen them kissing?'

'Not yet, not yet, but I'll tell you when they do...'

'What, are you spying on them?'

James and Sirius had quite an audience in the common-room. Gryffindors young and old, most of them irresponsible boys from the first and second years, were gathered round them, listening to this new and particularly interesting piece of gossip, which had been a little exaggerated in the telling but which was more popular for this. At length, once all of the known information had been given out, they began to disperse, and soon James, Sirius and their friends Remus and Peter were alone once again in the armchairs by the fire.

'Presumably it would be going too far to spy on them,' said Remus cautiously, sounding a little disappointed.

'And revolting, if they _did_ kiss,' said James in disgust.

'And someone would notice,' cut in Peter, 'and we'd get told off.'

'What do _you_ care about getting told off?' Sirius raised one eyebrow. 'Oh, but of course, you've never got into trouble before. Believe me, it's worth it. Most of the time.'

'No, it isn't,' said a voice behind them. Sirius groaned, and they all turned to see the bright red hair of Lily Evans poking above James's armchair. 'You shouldn't keep getting into trouble. You keep losing points for Gryffindor. It's not fair.'

'Go away, Evans,' said Sirius lazily.

'Yeah, it's none of your business,' Remus added.

'And don't even think about spying on the teachers,' Lily added; she had evidently not been listening. 'That's really rude.'

'And so's listening in on our conversations,' cut in James. 'Why don't you go find Snivellus? I expect he's in the library, trying to be perfect as usual,' he added scathingly.

Lily folded her arms sulkily and went away.

'What is it with her?' Sirius speculated. 'And her and Snivellus. How can she like _him_?'

The others shrugged, and then returned to their original subject. Remus commented that they would have to do something to satisfy all of the gossip-hungry Gryffindors, and James thought for a moment before saying, 'Well... you know we were saying... if we could spy on them without getting caught...'

'What are you thinking?' asked Remus.

'I don't know really... just something that could tell us where they were, when they were together, you know. Like a map of the rooms with them on it.'

The other three pricked their ears up, interested.

'But we probably don't know enough magic for that,' Peter admitted. 'And it would still be quite impolite.'

'Oh, don't go like Evans,' Sirius sighed. 'James – that's actually a really good idea. You mean like enchanted parchment or something?'

'Or something... I'll think it over. Yes – it should be a map. Of the greenhouses and Flitwick's room and the teachers' quarters – or the whole castle if we can manage it, and then it would be useful for other things.'

'Or in case they went to snog in someone else's classroom,' laughed Sirius.

'Mm. And there should be dots for people... Just Sprout and Flitwick at first, unless we can make everyone appear. We should look in the library, see if there are any useful spell-books up there.'

'And hope we don't bump into Lily and Snivellus,' added Remus.

'Definitely,' James agreed. 'So – lunch tomorrow, library. Right?'

'Right,' they all agreed.


	5. Hogsmeade

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter, much to their utmost surprise, found themselves a couple of weeks later in the possession of the most remarkable piece of parchment any of them had ever seen. If they tapped it with a wand and said, 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good' (this being one of the "oaths" that each of them valued as the keys to being in their closely-knit friendship group), the creamy white parchment seemed to dissolve into a greyer background whilst spidery blue-black lines began to criss-cross themselves across the page, forming at length an incredibly detailed map of the castle.

When they had tested this map out for the first time, all they had got was the map. After a few adjustments, they managed to get Sprout and Flitwick to appear as unlabelled dots that scuttled around the map according to their current position. It took a long while to make labels for these dots, but they were not too bothered, because all that mattered was knowing when the two dots were in the same place.

'This is incredible,' murmured James, studying the map for perhaps the thousandth time. 'Look – I didn't know about that room, that's next to the History classroom, isn't it? What do you think it is?' And that very evening he escaped the common room to find out and reported back, in quite a disappointed voice, that it was just an empty store-cupboard. He did this several times in a few days, going to find out where doors led or what rooms were to help his orientation, usually coming back with little of interest to report. However, one afternoon he leapt through the portrait hole and ran to the chairs by the fire, his eyes sparkling, and told his friends to follow him.

They did so, and together left the common-room and walked a little way down the corridor before coming to a statue they had all seen before – one of a one-eyed witch.

'Well?' asked Sirius impatiently.

'_Well_,' said James, 'watch this.'

He went up to the statue, looked left and right to make sure there was nobody around, and then pointed his wand at the witch's head. '_Dissendium_.'

'What's that spell?' asked Remus in curiosity; but James didn't have time to answer, because the statue had just split along the middle, revealing a dark tunnel.

'Wow,' muttered Sirius.

'I found the spell in a book somewhere,' said James airily. 'It opens up secret passageways. And I saw on the map that there was one leading from this statue, so... Shall we see where it goes to?'

'What if we get caught?' asked Peter nervously.

'We won't get caught,' replied James, confident as ever. He pocketed his wand and hauled himself onto the statue. 'C'mon.'

And he clambered into the tunnel, closely followed by the others; and when they were all in the entrance to the tunnel closed, plunging them all into darkness.

'_Lumos_,' Sirius murmured. Nothing happened. 'Dammit. _Lumos_.' The end of his wand was illuminated by a somewhat feeble light.

'That's why you should pay more attention in class,' said Peter somewhat arrogantly. '_Lumos_.' His wand produced a brilliant light first time.

And by the light of his wand, and Remus's, as he also paid some attention in lessons, the friends set off down the tunnel.

* * *

And when they emerged at the other end they found themselves in some sort of dark cellar. A curious smell of dust mixed with sugary things pervaded their nostrils. By the light of their wands they saw that they were surrounded by boxes and crates.

Remus paused for a moment, thinking about the route they had just taken. 'I think we must be in Hogsmeade,' he said at last. 'Yes... that would make sense.'

'Hogsmeade!' said James, his eyes twinkling. 'Really?'

Just then Sirius, who had been studying the boxes on the floor, gave a cry of recognition. 'Look at the addresses on these boxes! We're in Honeydukes!'

'The sweetshop?' asked James. Sirius nodded. 'So we _are _in Hogsmeade! Ha! In the second year!' It had long been a source of irritation for him that they weren't allowed into Hogsmeade until the third year. 'Let's look around! I want to go to Zonko's.'

'But what if someone sees us?' asked Peter timidly.

James hesitated a moment. He could handle being punished for being seen. But if they were asked how they had got there... 'It isn't a Hogsmeade weekend. There won't be anyone from Hogwarts here. We'll be fine.'

Reassured by this, the others set off after their bold self-elected leader.


	6. Madam Puddifoot's

The friends, not expecting to end up in Hogsmeade, had not got much money on them, and so could merely browse, but they did not mind, for they now had a means of getting there whenever they wanted. They looked quickly round Honeydukes, breathing in the heady, sugary air and smiling unconsciously as their eyes fell on rows of Every Flavour Beans, an multicoloured array of sugar-quills, little squeaking Ice Mice, an assortment of chocolate animals, with of course Chocolate Frogs as the centrepiece; there were also Muggle sweets in jars on the shelf at the back. It was a magnificent shop, and they were disappointed that they could not buy anything, but resolved to come back as soon as possible.

So they left the shop, shivering a little as they passed from warm toffee-scented air to the chill of the outside, looking up and down the little street of shops with its overhanging roofs and intriguing shops with wide eyes – they had only ever seen Hogsmeade in the dark from the station after getting off the Hogwarts Express. James made a bee-line for the window of Zonko's, where he spent more than a few minutes spouting a mostly self-addressed monologue on the wonderful joke items he saw there, whilst Sirius stood next to him and occasionally pointed things out.

'Hey, look, they have Fanged Frisbees,' James said, indicating a stack of boxes with teeth drawn on the outside. 'They're new, I saw them advertised in the _Prophet_. They'd be cool. Bet old Pringle would have a fit.' He grimaced a little. Much as he liked playing pranks and getting up to mischief, he was genuinely a little scared of the caretaker, who was prone to violence if he got angry, and not bad at certain painful hexes. 'They're getting rid of him soon, though, aren't they?'

'And probably replacing him with someone worse,' murmured Sirius as they moved away from Zonko's. 'Can we get a Butterbeer? They're only a couple of Sickles.'

'Oh, at the _Three Broomsticks_, you mean?' cut in Remus, as he and Peter caught up with them. 'Theirs is the best, apparently.'

'I heard Madam Puddifoot's was better,' said Peter.

'Yes, but her _café_!' James pulled a disgusted face. 'You can go if you want, but it's all pink and revolting. Let's go to the _Three Broomsticks_. Everyone says it's nice in there.'

'Can I have a look at Dervish and Banges first?' asked Remus. The others nodded, and they set off down the street to the shop that sold just about everything useful, and was the first port of call for older students who were running low on supplies. Whilst Remus was studying the differently-coloured inks (he liked to make his notes all different colours, and decided that when they came back here he would buy maroon, royal purple and cauldron grey), James and Sirius wandered lazily up and down the street, looking in at the windows of other shops, and studying the place, trying to imprint the layout on their minds.

'Oh, is that Madam Puddifoot's place?' Sirius said then, pointing to a little cafeteria. 'Urgh, look, it _is_ horrible.' The façade was done out in pastel shades, and the inside looked distinctly pink and girly.

James wrinkled up his nose and looked at the shop in cheerful disgust. Then he let out a gasp and pointed despite himself. 'Wa-it, wait, look...'

He shuffled backwards a little, so that he could look into the café without necessarily being seen from the inside. 'Look who it is!'

Sirius hurried to him, and followed his gaze. 'Oh!' and he chuckled. 'So it _is_ a thing! Ha! Flitwick and Sprout in Madam Puddifoot's!' He turned, and called out to Remus and Peter only as loudly as he dared. They ran over, and smiled when they realised what he was looking at.

Flitwick had his back to them, and was perched on a heap of scarlet cushions so that he could reach the table. Sprout, cleaner than usual, was opposite him, a shy smile between cheeks the colour of the cushions. Though the boys could not see the table well, they could see a floral-patterned teapot and matching cups, and were convinced that the couple were holding hands across their afternoon tea. Sprout said something and Flitwick shook a little with laughter. They watched this scene for a short while, and then moved away before they started to look suspicious, hurrying back down the street and heading for the _Three Broomsticks_.

Over their Butterbeers they discussed the matter at length, excited as they were by this new bit of gossip. However, as Remus pointed out, they couldn't very easily spread it around the school, as they would surely be asked how they had managed to get to Madam Puddifoot's. Nevertheless, they could probably get round it somehow to feed their gossip-hungry fellow-Gryffindors. This was the confirmation of their suspicions and the most important bit of news they had found out for a long while.

'Sprout and Flitwick on a date!' Sirius kept saying.

'I know!' James kept replying. 'It's a thing, it's definitely a thing. We should keep a watch on the map, see if they keep disappearing off to Hogsmeade.'

'And then what?' asked Peter.

'Well... I don't know,' shrugged James. 'But we need to keep investigating until everyone gets tired of the whole thing. Which could be a while...'

* * *

Just as they were walking back to Honeydukes, Sirius put up his hand in some kind of danger-signal, and then indicated down the street. Sprout and Flitwick were walking arm-in-arm, talking together, and did not seem to have seen the four boys. More quickly than they had run in their life before, they sprinted to Honeydukes and slipped inside, sneaking down to the basement to find the tunnel and hoping desperately that they hadn't been seen.

'Close one,' panted James. 'Lucky you saw them, Sirius. I really, really hope they were too busy looking at each other to notice us...'

And with that not-entirely-reassuring thought, they headed back up to Hogwarts and safety.


End file.
